It hangs insouciantly from the shelf;
Dangling freely the frilly cups beckon
In soft molds, an inversion of the self
That minutes earlier had this bra on.
Tossed over the chair the white lace panties
Mock me; carelessly they gaily entice,
Informing me of a prior strip-tease;
To ignore this scene will never suffice.
Following the clues to the candles' glow,
You're basking wantonly in a warm bath;
Your gentle eyes meet mine and I now know
That your intent leads down no primrose path.
My guess could not have been more wrong indeed,
Showing again the classic male misread.
January 2014
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